


It's Oh so Quiet

by vulpixel



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Mommy Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, but like briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29905491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpixel/pseuds/vulpixel
Summary: Mercedes and Constance gal pal it up in the library.
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz/Constance von Nuvelle
Kudos: 16





	It's Oh so Quiet

Piles of books lie astray in the library. Constance carefully picks through the piles and organizes them. It's hard work, but it must be done. However, she does wish Hilda showed up to help. Not that she is surprised. She has learned the hard way that Hilda does everything in her power to not do work. Regardless, she persists. She has a job to do, and she will do it. A Nuvelle never backs down from a challenge. She picks apart the next stack of books.

"Hello, Coco." A soft voice surprises her from behind. Constance jumps out of her skin. She turns around to see a familiar face smiling sweetly at her.

"Mercedes! Um, hello, er, salutations." She cannot pick one noble greeting from another. "Forgive me. I wasn't expecting to have company this late at night," she says, trying to sound like is not currently in the process of having a heart attack. She casually braces herself on the table to keep from fainting. Her heart races fast enough she is sure the other woman can hear it.

"Really? I was expecting you to have company. This certainly isn’t a single person job. Aren't you supposed to have help?" Mercedes wonders, "Or did you get assigned Hilda?"

This woman is much too keen when she shouldn’t be.

"Yes, you are correct. Hilda was supposed to be the one assisting me with my chores tonight, but she told me she was busy. It's okay. I can handle it on my own. I'm used to being alone anyway."

"Are you sure? I would love to help, and I really don't want to leave you alone. Let me spend some time with you. Just the two of us together." She steps closer so their arms bump together. Constance’s heart races at the subtle touch. A shiver runs down her spine. Mercedes casually reaches for the same book Constance is holding.

"I suppose I cannot refuse such a kind offer. especially when the offer is coming from you," Constance says. She swallows nervously. She knows she shouldn't feel this anxious. It's Mercedes. She has no reason to fear this woman. Mercedes is her childhood friend. Someone she looks up to and knows well. On the other hand, _it's Mercedes_.

They work in silence for a while. Constance pours all her concentration into the books in front of her. It's the only thing keeping her from babbling like an idiot. She spends an hour alphabetizing every encyclopedia of spells and magic. As she works, she explains the practicality and make of each spell she encounters. The letters start to move on the page after a while. Mercedes works next to her, only occasionally speaking to ask for a certain book or to question which genre a novel would count as. Technically, cookbooks are nonfiction, but they belong in the section for manuals and how-to's and not the biographies and history textbooks like Mercedes keeps insisting.

“Is a recipe not the biography of a pastry?” Mercedes argues, “You get to experience it’s creation and development and its inevitable yet delicious end.”

Constance has no idea how to respond to that. Even she cannot think of a statement as bizarre as that. “You make a good point, but regardless, we have a duty to organize these books as Seteth expects us to. Perhaps we can bring it up to him in the morning. Until then, I implore you that we put “Derdriu Delicacies” among the other recipe books.”

“Magic tomes are technically recipes. Shall we organize those together too?”

“Um, no. Food recipes go with the practical how-to books whereas the magic tomes are more akin to books on proper lancing techniques.”

“You’re so smart, Coco. I’m glad you’re here to help me.”

“Not to be rude, but isn’t it the other way around? You came here to help me.”

“Oh, yes. I suppose that’s true. Either way, I’m glad we’re spending this time together.”

The night crawls on, and Constance fights back a yawn. Her focus starts to waiver. Especially when she feels the other woman brush up against her. It has to be an accident, but it happens much too often for it to be coincidence. Again, Mercedes bumps into her. Constance nearly screams. The book in her hand slips and falls to the floor. The pages flutter in the air.

"Let me get that," she says, diving down to grab it.

Mercedes stops her "Oh, whoops! Let me pick that up."

She bends over, deliberately giving the other woman a perfect view of everything. Constance politely averts her eyes to protect the woman's modesty.

"I'm surprised Lady Rhea has such a large romance section," Mercedes comments, thumbing through the small novel she picked up, "For such a holy woman, you think she would be against such a thing."

"Against romance?"

"Not the romance part. The sex part," she explains without any bounds, "Have you ever read these? They're riddled with premarital sex and forbidden romantic trysts. It's simply not something a holy woman should be enjoying in her free time."

"You say that, but you insinuate that you've read it yourself. Are you not a holy woman as well? Should you also not be partaking in these forbidden delicacies even if fictional?"

"I may be a holy woman, but I still know how to have fun. And I certainly won't refrain from partaking in certain unsavory acts."

Her statements make no sense. Constance cannot begin to wrap her head around what the other woman is trying to convey. "You do?"

"I very much do. You should try it sometime," Mercedes says, her voice suddenly hushed.

Constance swallows at that statement. A hand comes up to rest on her neck. She squeaks nervously, "I am fully capable of having fun. Thank you."

“You say that, but you sound as stuck up as my father. Although, you couldn’t be my father. You don’t have the facial hair to get the job done. Perhaps you could be my mother.”

“I am not stuck up, and I am most certainly not either of your parents,” she answers with a huff.

“Are you telling me you don’t want to be my mommy?” Mercedes frowns. She tilts her head to the side, making Constance want to implode.

At this point, Constance is sure she is deceased, and this is some sad excuse for an afterlife. She breaks out into a coughing fit, her entire body burning hot as lava.

"Mommy?" She yells out much too loudly. Hopefully, Linhardt isn't hidden anywhere nearby. She would hate to have to explain her outburst to anyone.

"Yes, dear?" Mercedes answers as if nothing happened. Her hand comes down to gently tug on the other woman’s cravat.

"Did you just- did you- Mercedes-" Constance needs a minute or maybe a year. She bends over to lean on the table and catch her breath. "Did you just refer to me as your mother?"

The other giggles, "Did I? Whoopsies. Usually, it's the other way around."

_Whoopsies?_ That's all she has to say?

"I can assure you with great confidence that I am _not_ your mother."

"Aw, you don't want to be my mommy?” Mercedes pouts. “That's too bad. It would be fun to switch it up every once in a while."

“What are you implying?” Constance asks through a small coughing fit.

“Usually, people call me mommy,” Mercedes replies unabashedly. Her tone suggests it happens more often than Constance would like to know.

“People refer to you… like that?”

“Yes. I’m quite motherly; I’m sure you’re well aware of that. I think it comforts my friends to call me that. Would you like to try it?”

"Mercedes, I mean this with the utmost respect, but please cease this immediately. I am not going to call you… my mother." Constance isn't sure if her body can handle much more of this. She feels ready to combust.

"Okay, mommy," she coos.

“That was not an invitation for you to refer to me with-” She grits her teeth, trying to stay in control of herself. “ _That word_.”

Mercedes gently boops her nose as if she were her pet cat. “I’ll stop now. I promise. I just wanted to have a little fun with you is all.”

Thank the goddess. Constance isn’t sure if she can handle any more tortue or else she might have to admit things about herself she is not ready to admit.

"Mercedes, what game are you playing with me?" She questions her. Her mind cannot even begin to wrap around the actions of the other woman nor the undeniable feelings of want festering in her chest. She feels as if she might combust, and the close proximity of the other woman does not help. She can smell the faint scent of her perfume, and it’s intoxicating.

"A fun one," Mercedes answers, "You're much too easy to rile up. It's cute."

"I am not riled up." An obvious lie. Constance is practically shaking with anticipation. Her words come out stuttered and unsure.

"Are you sure about that, dear?" A hand runs down her arm. Constance uses all her strength not to react. Unfortunately for her, that is a reaction in itself. Mercedes lets out a satisfied hum. "I told you."

Constance takes a deep breath in and out.

"Mercedes, what are your intentions with me?" She asks outright.

At that, the other woman giggles. Her warm laughter fills the room, and Constance feels her heart flutter.

"I think it's quite obvious, dear."

Not to Constance.

"Please say it out loud for me,” she says.

"Why, I came here specifically to have sex with you. If you would let me of course," Mercedes responds in her usual lilt.

The offer is much too tempting. Constance uses all her strength not to yell out to the high heavens. However, she is a woman of honor. She has a duty to fulfill no matter how much her body begs otherwise. As she looks up at her friend, she finds her moral code wavering. She could use a break. Perhaps it won't take too long... No. She shakes off the feeling.

"But we're in the library," she says in a hushed tone, glancing around to make sure no one is about, "What if someone sees?"

“Doesn’t the possibility excite you?” Mercedes replies. She gently takes Constance’s hands into her own and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

She makes a good point.

Constance swallows nervously. “Well, yes. That could be potentially invigorating, but I also do not wish to get in trouble if someone were to catch us.”

"You have nothing to worry about, dear. No one comes to the library this late at night except for Linhardt. And I don't see them here, so we can have the whole room to ourselves."

At this moment, Constance can feel Sothis glaring down at her. However, it does little to discourage her. Mercedes is much too alluring, and her body is much too close. The warmth radiating off of her is so welcoming. Constance wants nothing more but to bury herself in the woman. Oh, goddess, is she actually considering this?

"You mean you truly wish to commit such an unsavory act right here in the library?" Constance babbles nervously. She bites her lip hard enough to taste blood.

"Why of course I do. I would hate to wait any longer to get my hands on you," Mercedes responds, voice low. She steps closer so their bodies press flush together.

Constance nearly faints. Her face burns hot enough to rival an active volcano. "Let me go over this one last time. You wish to utilize the library to-"

The woman puts a gentle finger over her lips to quiet her. "Hush, my dearest. You talk too much. Let mommy take care of you."

That word again. Constance feels her stomach flip at the word. Her heart races. An inhuman squeak gurgles from her throat.

Mercedes waits patiently for an answer, but for the first time ever, Constance finds herself unable to speak. Her mouth hangs open, but no words come out. She implores herself to say something. _Anything_. But the words will not come.

"Mommy?" Is all she can manage. She hates how good that felt to say. It leaves a certain tingle in her chest, and it makes her crave more.

"Good girl." Mercedes places her hand on the other's cheek, forcing her to look up at her. Constance nearly melts at her touch. If there is one thing Constance von Nuvelle lives for, it is praise.

Constance shouldn't be enjoying this so much. It is quite improper for a noble, nay, anyone to be doing this in the _library_ of all places. At least it's not the church. Although, the thought of that does excite Constance as much as she would never admit to it. Perhaps she can set aside her noble morals for just a brief moment...

In what is quite possibly the best decision of her life, she pulls Mercedes by the collar of her shirt into a kiss. It is chaste and not nearly what Constance is hoping for, but she cannot find the strength to push further.

Luckily for her, Mercedes intends to go much further than just one kiss. The woman presses hard into Constance, locking their lips together a bit too roughly yet gentle all the same. It’s a quality Constance has grown to love about her friend. Greedy hands tug at her cravat, loosening it enough for it to fall from her neck. It’s the most naked Mercedes has ever seen her despite knowing her for years.

“You wear too much clothing,” Mercedes whispers, almost sounding frustrated. She eagerly fumbles with the buttons of Constance’s shirt. Constance lets her. Suddenly, her back hits the table behind her. She didn’t realize Mercedes was guiding her backwards.

“I think I wear an appropriate amount of clothing,” Constance says.

“We’re not being appropriate anymore, my dear Constance. The clothes come off.” Mercedes begins slowly undressing her. Nimble fingers undo buttons until Constance’s chest is exposed. Mercedes licks her lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

Constance loves the praise. She craves more. “Thank you, Mercedes. It means much more coming from you.”

Mercedes leans down to kiss her lips, quickly moving downward to her jaw then her freshly exposed neck. Her tongue comes out to lap at the particularly sensitive parts of the other’s skin. Constance pulls Mercedes tighter. Her breath hitches when teeth sink into her soft skin. Mercedes sucks hard on her neck until a dark bruise forms. Constance is too muddled with wanting to care. She craves more. She needs more.

“Please,” Constance urges her on, and Mercedes is more than happy to comply. Her kisses get sloppier as she moves downward to her collarbones. Then, for a brief moment, she stops and gazes upward.

“Shall I keep going, my dear?” She asks almost silently.

Now, Constance is not one to beg, but at this very moment, she needs all her strength not to yell out to the high heavens. She keeps her voice controlled and low. “Yes. You may have your way with me. Do as you please, and I beg you do not hold back.”

“And will you be a good girl for me?”

She nods.

“I need you to say it out loud for me.”

“I will,” Constance says quietly.

“You will?” Mercedes awaits a proper answer. Every moment they are apart leaves Constance in agony. Her body burns. As much as she does not want to say it out loud, she knows she has to.

“I’ll be your good girl,” she says again, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. She can hardly look at the other woman. “Just for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Mercedes smiles genuinely, and Constance’s heart nearly melts at the sight. Again, Mercedes leans in to kiss her once more. Her hands settle at Constance's hips. Suddenly, Constance is no longer touching the ground. Mercedes lifts her and throws her onto the table. Constance yelps in shock. Stacks of books topple over, and so much hard work gets destroyed in seconds.

Constance glances down worriedly. "We should be more careful-"

Mercedes brings a finger to the woman's lips. "Quiet, my dear."

"But-"

"What about my earlier statement was hard to understand?" She asks, her tone suddenly sharp. It leaves a fluttering feeling in Constance's chest that sinks down to the heat pooling between her legs. "I thought you said you were going to be a good girl for me."

"I am," Constance responds, not sure if she should say anything at all, "You have my most sincere apology. I will do as you say."

"Good girl," Mercedes says. Her hand wanders down to Constance's skirt. "Now, may I remove your panties?"

"Yes, please," the other answers much too eagerly.

Mercedes takes her time doing so. Her hand runs down the length of Constance's thigh only to move back up once she reaches the end of her skirt. She gently drags her blunt fingernails across Constance's skin. The sensation is overwhelming. Constance bites her lip, trying not to react out loud. Her breath hitches, and she subtly spreads her legs. Mercedes looks up at her knowingly. She deliberately runs her hand over Constance's underwear, dragging her fingers down agonizingly slow.

"Someone's excited," she comments to herself, “All of this just for me? What a treat.”

Constance burns up with embarrassment. She instinctively closes her legs only for Mercedes to open them back up.

"Darling, you need to keep these open for me."

She nods her answer, barely able to contain the emotions tearing her body limb from limb. She's wrapped around Mercedes' finger, and Mercedes knows it all too well.

Carefully, Mercedes peels away the other woman's underwear. Her fingers poke gently under the hem to grip it tight as she drags it downward. The fabric bunches at her ankles. Constance forgets how to breathe. She watches as Mercedes discards her underwear and tosses it away without a second thought.

"Now, where were we?" She asks, lifting the other's skirt to expose her pale skin. The cold air makes Constance shiver.

"I believe we were right here." She points to her chest already bruised and marked.

"Ah, yes. Let me finish what I started." Mercedes presses against her, pampering her chest with soft kisses. Her lips feel heavenly upon her skin. Then, she sinks to her knees, and Constance nearly has a heart attack.

She presses a gentle kiss to the woman's inner thigh. Constance chokes on her own breath. She leans back and grips tight to the edge of the table. Her other hand comes up to cover her mouth.

"Please keep going." She urges Mercedes on.

"Patience, my darling. I'll take good care of you. I promise." Mercedes kisses her again, inching closer to the spot Constance so desperately wants her to touch. She brings out her tongue, and Constance lets out a pleasurable moan. Mercedes does not stop there. She continues to work Constance, making the woman tremble as pressure builds in her gut.

"Fuck," Constance whispers. Her entire body tenses with anticipation, but Mercedes will not let her go so easily.

"Watch your language," Mercedes tuts at her, "That's quite unladylike of you."

"I'm sorry. I will hold my tongue."

"Good girl. Now, hold still for me."

That is an impossible command as Mercedes starts touching her in ways more divine than the goddess herself. Her tongue works miracles between her thighs, and Constance bites her lip to keep from screaming out.

"Mercedes, I'm so close. Please don't stop."

The woman does not answer with her words. Instead, she leans in to work Constance harder. The sudden stimulation nearly brings Constance over the edge. She cries out, no longer caring who is around to hear it.

"Please, Mercedes." She can barely manage words.

Then, the orgasm hits her. Pleasure wrecks her body, and Mercedes eases out every ounce of it until the other woman is almost collapsing on the table above her. Constance clamps her legs together, using the last of her coherent thoughts to will herself not to crush Mercedes' head. Mercedes only continues to pleasure her with her tongue until Constance is a sweaty mess unable to stay up any longer.

"That's enough," Constance mutters.

Mercedes stands up, wrapping her arms around the other woman to keep her from falling. Constance leans into her limply. Her chest heaves with each labored breath. She is absolutely exhausted. Her body refuses to move.

“You did a good job, dear,” Mercedes praises her. She plants a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“I did?” Constance responds.

“You did. Now, let’s get you dressed.”

That requires moving. Constance isn’t sure if that is possible at this point. Luckily, Mercedes is more than willing to help. She buttons up Constance’s shirt, hiding the bruises to scare the poor woman in the mirror later. Constance stumbles as she tries to stand. She leans hard into Mercedes. The two walk out of the library.

A familiar face bumps into them as they leave.

“Oh, hello, Edelgard!” Mercedes greets her with her usual cheer.

The woman looks at the two, contemplating. “Hello, Mercedes. Hello, Constance.” She pauses a moment. “Is Constance okay?”

“She’s fine. We were rearranging the books in the library.”

“She looks like she got run over by a stampede of horses,” says Edelgard.

“You know how chores are.” Mercedes dismisses her claim with a wave of her hand. “Either way, we’re both exhausted. You go have fun in the library alone at such an odd hour in the night!”

“I will. Thank you.”

With that, the women part ways. Edelgard glances back briefly before stepping into the library. Mercedes walks Constance to her room to sleep for the few hours they have left until dawn. They fall asleep in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was made possible by viewers like you! thank you :)  
> obligatory plug of my twitter [here](https://twitter.com/_vulpixel)


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